s time of
day. No more of your damned foolishness now. Here's the quinine. Down
with it!"

Bennett met Pitts at the door of Ferriss's room, and before going in
drew him into a corner.

"He's a sick boy, Pitts, and is going to be worse, though he's just
enough of a fool boy not to admit it. I've seen them start off this gait
before. Remember, too, when you look him over that it's not as though he
had been in a healthy condition before. Our work in the ice ground him
down about as fine as he could go and yet live, and the hardtack and
salt pork on the steam whalers were not a good diet for a convalescent.
And see here, Pitts," said Bennett, clearing his throat, "I--well, I'm
rather fond of that fool boy in there. We are not taking any chances,
you understand."

After the doctor had seen the chief engineer and had prescribed calomel
and a milk diet, Bennett followed him out into the hall and accompanied
him to the door.

"Verdict?" he demanded, fixing the physician intently with his small,
distorted eyes. But Pitts was non-committal.

"Yes, he's a sick boy, but the thing, whatever it is going to be, has
been gathering slowly. He complains of headache, great weakness and
nausea, and you speak of frequent nose-bleeds during the night. The
abdomen is tender upon pressure, which is a symptom I would rather not
have found. But I can't make any positive diagnosis as yet. Some big
sickness is coming on--that, I am afraid, is certain. I shall come out
here to-morrow. But, Mr. Bennett, be careful of yourself. Even steel can
weaken, you know. You see this rabble" (he motioned with his head toward
the anteroom, where the other visitors were waiting) "that is hounding
you? Everybody knows where you are. Man, you must have rest. I don't
need to look at you more than once to know that. Get away! Get away even
from your mails! Hide from everybody for a while! Don't think you can
nurse your friend through these next few weeks, because you can't."

"Well," answered Bennett, "wait a few days. We'll see by the end of the
week."

The week passed. Ferriss went gradually from bad to worse, though as yet
the disease persistently refused to declare itself. He was quite
helpless, and Bennett watched over him night and day, pottering around
him by the hour, giving him his medicines, cooking his food, and even
when Ferriss complained of the hotness of the bedclothes, changing the
very linen that he might lie upon cool sheets. But at the end